Draco's Veela Side (Drarry)

Chapter 1

Wait, what?" Draco's eyes widened in shock and disbelief at Dumbledore's message.

The old man sat across from him, the twinkle dying down from his eyes as he repeated himself.

"Yes, Draco. You're a Veela; You've inherited it from your father and as you should know, tonight when you turn 16, you'll most likely sprout some wings and... change. You'll need to find your mate, and if they reject you, you die in a matter of 24 hours." He paused and watched as Draco's face sketched into fear before carrying on, "Of course, being without your mate for too long after you've found them may hurt you, and you'd most likely just want to protect them all the time. Whatever pain your mate feels, you shall feel. Any questions?"

"A few, actually... Will the uhm, process of my inheritance hurt? Like, when the wings come through? What will they look like?" Malfoy leaned forward, eager to know more.

"Oh Malfoy, it'll pain a lot. You'll have to go to the hospital wing after this meeting, and stay there. We can't have you going to classes through all of this. You'll see what they look like tonight at midnight." He shone a small smile towards the blond boy, "Any more questions?"

"How will I, erm, know who my mate is?"

"You'll feel it, boy. You will suddenly become a bit more touchy with them, and they'll attract you more. I assume you aren't seeing anyone at the moment?" He raised an eyebrow as he peered at the boy, who's colour ran from his face.

"N-no, sir."

"Good, because the sight might be a bit disturbing if they find out they aren't your mate. There's no telling who your mate is yet, anyways." He straightened his back, signalling that the meeting was nearly over.

"B-but, sir," The Slytherin put in, trying to get one last answer from him, "Surely they'd be a Slytherin girl. Right? I'm straight sir, anyways, so it's obviously a female."

"Mr Malfoy, we have no clue yet. It could be any gender from any house, yet we hope they are your age. If you will, I have to go talk to your godfather, Severus. Have a good day, boy, and head straight to the hospital wing! Madam Pomfrey already knows."

With that, Dumbledore left his office with Draco following.

The blond boy sighed and headed to the Slytherin boys dormitry to collect some clothing, although he figured he wouldn't need it, and earned a few confused looks as he walked back and exited the common room.

Of course, dinner had just finished and so had his meeting with Dumbledore, so everyone was back in the common room getting ready for bed.

He wandered in the halls and slipped into the hospital wing.
"Draco, I wondered where you were." Pomfrey smiled, showing him to a bed.

There was nobody else in there, or so he thought until he turned to face his left side and saw the golden trio staring at him.

He shrieked in suprise, jumping up, causing a pain to jolt through his back.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Ron asked, a look of disgust and hatrid filling all three of their faces.

"That's p-private! What are you doing here?" He sneered, backing away on his bed.

"What, started your time of the month?" Weasley joked, causing Harry to snicker.

"N-no!" He mentally slapped himself for stuttering like a clueless fool, but didn't back down, "Who is it that's supposedly hurt out of you three?"

"Probably the girl who's laying on the bed," Harry rolled his eyes, "Unobservant git."

"What happened?" He questioned, ignoring his insult.

"As if you'd care." Harry hissed, "Hermione, don't speak to him whilst you're here."

"Yeah, 'Mione, tell us if he says anything." Ron scolded, glancing over at Malfoy.

"I-I'm not going to- Oh forget it." He grumbled, turning over and snuggling his knees close to his chest.

"Guys, don't be so mean." Granger snapped, "You okay, Malfoy? What happened?"

Draco debated on whether to tell her or not; Hermione did know a lot about Veelas and could maybe help him, but on the other hand didn't want to be teased by them three.

"Promise you won't tease me?" He faced them all again, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"What did you do, fall down the toilet?" He grinned, and Malfoy bared his teeth.

"No, Potter, I didn't!" He growled, "Isn't it past your curfew?"

"Shut up, Malfoy. We can stay as long as we want, we have Harry's cloak for whenever Pomfrey makes a visit." Ron smirked, lifting it up.
He decided not to tell Madam Pomfrey, so he just carried it on.

"Draco, what is it? We won't judge you." Granger smiled, and he instantly regretted all those times he called her a mudblood.

"I-I'm a Veela... I should be coming into inheritance tonight..."
He smiled shyly, and Hermione gasped before a squeal escaped her lips.

"That's adorable! Then you'll have a mate!"

"A mate?" Harry asked. His eyebrows furrowed in dissapointment, however nobody noticed.

"Yes, Potter, a mate." Malfoy rolled his eyes and sat up, "Thought you would have knew, y'know, our apparant saviour."

"Shove off, Malfoy." Ron mumbled, before Hermione carried on.

"A mate, Harry. Veela's can't choose their mates, but if they get rejected by them they'll die in a matter of a day." She informed, and Harry nodded.

"Okay... Well, who's your mate, Malfoy?"

"I don't know yet!" He snapped, as if it was obvious.

"Why do you care so much, Harry? Can you imagine if you were Draco's mate? If I were, I'd reject him straight away!" Weasley laughed, and Harry shone a small smile, almost forced.

"Yes, Weasley, and I'd be happy to die if it were." Draco spoke back, until a jolt of pain ran through him, a million times stronger than the last.

He screamed and fell on his back on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly as he felt warm liquid trickle down his back.

He closed his eyes, and his throat turned raw from screaming.

"Get Madam Pomfrey, it's starting!" Hermione yelled.

"I can't, we aren't supposed to be here!" Ron shouted back over Draco's groans in pain.

"Fine, I will!"

"You fell down stairs, 'Mione and broke a few bones. You can't possibly-"
Weasley was cut off by footsteps rushing further away from Draco.
He couldn't see who it was, his eyes were glued shut.

"Malfoy? Draco! Come on, you'll be okay!"
Wait, was that Harry? Had he called him by his given name?
Why did he care whether Draco was okay or not?

Why did Draco care that he cared?
He let a feeble whimper escape his mouth before he passed out from the burning in his back.